


It's Like Forgetting

by Hexiva



Category: Legion (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Character(s) of Color, Gen, Identity Issues, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 13:38:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16517516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexiva/pseuds/Hexiva
Summary: Farouk wants to discuss identity. Oliver is his captive audience.





	It's Like Forgetting

The sky above is blue, the sun is bright, and the wind is brushing through Oliver’s hair. The radio is on, and it’s playing one of his favorite songs - although he can’t remember any of the words. He thinks he might be happy. He’s not sure.

“Do you ever wonder, my friend,” the monster in the passenger seat asks him, “if you’re still alive?”

Oliver blinks. “Am I?” he asks, after a minute. “Perhaps this is all a dream. Like the ice cube.”

The monster laughs, softly.  _ “Nein,  _ my friend. This is real.” He gestures around at the road around them.  _ “This  _ is real. But that doesn’t mean  _ you  _ are. After all, what is it that makes a man? His memories? You have lost those. His agency? I have taken that from you. How do you know that you . . . are still  _ you?”  _

Oliver considers this for a moment. “Does it matter?” he says.  _ “Cogito, ergo sum.  _ Someone said that once. Who was it?” He stares out at the road, rolling past endlessly. “Some musician, I think.”

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Farouk asks, giving Oliver an indulgent, amused look. “The thought that you might be nothing more than my delusion?” 

Oliver shrugs. “What if you’re  _ my  _ delusion?”

Farouk goes silent. “Ahh, but we both know that isn’t true, don’t we?” he says, softly. “I caused you to be woken up. Not the other way around. If I am a delusion . . . I am David’s.”

Oliver looks over at Farouk. The parasite’s eyes are hidden, as always, behind his sunglasses. His expression is . . . thoughtful. Wistful, even. 

“Where are we going?” Oliver asks.

Farouk smiles, slightly.  _ “Muten,”  _ he says.  _ Home.  _ “That is where the proof will be, no? I have memories of my life. My . . .  _ real  _ life, before I was murdered. And David has never been to Iran. If my memories are true - If I’m more than another voice in David’s head - then I will find the proof there. The proof that Amahl Farouk lived, and died, as a real person. As more than the monster under David’s bed.”

“What happens,” Oliver asks, “if you don’t find the proof?”

A shadow crosses Farouk’s face, and for a moment, Oliver wonders if he’s about to be punished for daring to ask that question. But then it’s gone, and Farouk says, “We will cross that bridge when we come to it, my friend.”


End file.
